A Glimmer of Hope
by Moneybags
Summary: *finsihed* What happens when a girl bumps into a newsie? She looses her job, friends, but gains something to help her through the hard times.
1. Introduction ...

A Glimmer of Hope  
  
By: Moneybags  
  
Sara hurried through the busy streets of Manhattan. It was early October 1899, particularly cold for that time. It was late evening, and if she wasn't in the boarding house for the factory workers by 9, she wouldn't get a bed because of the first-come-first-serve policy there.  
  
"Get outta da way, ya street rat!" Some man shouted at her as she went by. He was, not surprisingly, well dressed, and in a hurry. Sara just continued on her way. Ya know, just 'cause we don't have good clothes, don't mean ya gotta pick on us. It seemed that everybody picked on the kids who had to work for and make their own living. Some guy who had sold her a pretzel for lunch had even given her a hard time. It was all she could spare if she ever wanted to get out of here. With a daily income of twenty-five cents, by the time she got through the day she was down to about five cents. The lodging was five cents, and then she had to get lunch or dinner, which dinner was around fifteen cents, and a pretzel was a few cents. Sometimes she  
  
could save five cents a day, but that rarely happened.  
  
She looked up just in time to try and avoid a collision with a boy about her age, Sara guessed. But the boy was looking down and managed to walk right into her. "I'm sorry." Sara replied, not expecting a reply. He mumbled something, but she couldn't hear what it was, and looked at her but then got swept away into the crowd. Oh well, what can ya expect o' people dese  
  
days? Sara got a pretty good look at him. He had an eye patch, and she remembered him holding a small stack of papers. Well, Sara, concentrate on w'ere youse goin'. Don't wanna end up in a mess wit some oddah person. Maybe Michele'll be at da boardin' house. She always cheers me up somehow.  
  
When she finally reached the boarding house, Sara went in to make sure that there was still room, and saw Michele's name on the list. Michele was one of the very few friends Sara had, and was one of the first girls to introduce herself when Sara had first come. She also had helped Sara get adjusted to life here.  
  
As Sara went into the girls' bunkroom, she looked around. There were the usual five girls playing poker, and about ten more on-lookers and ten other girls were sleeping, talking, or doing something else. Sara headed over to her usual bunk, and was soon visited by Michele.  
  
"So," Sara started, "dija find anythin' else 'bout ya muddah and faddah?"  
  
Michele just nodded with a worried statement on her face. "I'se seen dem. Dey didn't see me, an' I intend ta keep it dat way. Deys're lookin' for me again. If dey find me, I dunno what I'm gonna do. But it's gettin' too risky ta stay here."  
  
"Where do ya think ya gonna go?" Sara asked reluctantly.  
  
"Well, I'm thinkin' 'bout goin' ova ta da Bronx, gettin' a job dere, an' as soon as I get meself enough money, I'm getting' outta here for good." Michele saw the look on her friend's face. "Yeah, I don't wanna go, but-"  
  
"Naw, ya gotta go. Dere ain't no oddah way. I undastand. If I hear anyt'in' 'bout ya parents I'll letcha know."  
  
"T'anks."  
  
"Don't mention it." Sara suddenly remembered about the boy she had bumped into. "Hey, guess what I ran inta tiday?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"A newsboy!" They both burst out laughing at the inside joke from long ago. When Sara first came into the factory, she and Michele had connected pretty well. Michele helped Sara find her way around the city, and one-day she pointed out a newsie, only Sara misheard Michele and thought she said moesie. So needless to say that when they figured all this out, they were  
  
both hysterical. "Naw really, I'm serious. He had an eye patch too." Michele quieted down, wanting to know every detail.  
  
"What kinda hair?" She asked dreamily.  
  
"Oh, he was just ya type. His one eye was definitely blue, and I t'ink he got sandy blonde hair." Sara knew that her friend would want to know everything. "He was taller den me, not by much dough. I'se guessin' he's 'bout our age, fifteen or sixteen, it's hard ta tell, ya know, only saw 'im for a split second."  
  
"Yeah, but youse all ready gave me all dose details. What else?" Sara just gave her that look, to tell her to shut up. "Oh, I'm sorry." Michele said teasingly, who gave Sara that fine! Don't tell me look.  
  
"Well, he was yer typical New Yawker. Aftah we ran inta each oddah, he looked at me. Din't say nuttin'. Must've snapped outta a day dream or somethin'."  
  
"And . . ." Michele said, her voice trailing off.  
  
"What do you want me to do? Ohh, I know, I'll just magically know where he is, find him, and drag him back here just so ya could look at him. Alright, master?"  
  
"No, slave, that isn't good enough." Michele snapped back, and sat up straight like a queen.  
  
"Ohh, I forgot. Nuttin's ever good enough for ya." Sara mumbled, rolling her eyes as well.  
  
"Just shut up an' tell me more." Michele commanded her slave.  
  
"No! I'll never give in to your wicked ways!"  
  
Just then, Mrs. Brewster came in. "C'mon, girls. Ya gotta get to bed. Can't have youse fallin' asleep in da fact'ry tamorraw. I'm coming in at five- thirty in da mornin' to wake youse up." The factory had put her in charge of running one of the boarding houses (or flophouse, as they were also referred to) and keeping the girls in order. She was always grumpy, but tolerable. Most girls just ignored her and kept out of her way.  
  
After Mrs. Brewster left the room, the girls did their goodnight rounds. Sara said goodnight to Michele, and several other girls who she knew. Then she climbed into her bunk, and presently fell asleep, thinking of what she always thought about and regretted- not watching her brother.  
  
  
  
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	2. More Stuff ....

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The next morning, Mrs. Brewster came into the girl's room at five o'clock, knowing that they would never get to the factory in time if she didn't wake them up earlier. "C'mon, get up, get up. Da factory's gonna have me head if youse goils ain't up! Ya want dat ta happen?"  
  
One girl, who was clearly not a morning person, stumbled out of bed and said under her breath, "We'se all sick of you wakin' us up every moirin'. Wouldn't be dat bad."  
  
Mrs. Brewster just ignored her, knowing that it would just cause more trouble if she spoke back. Some girls still lingered in bed for a little while longer, until she threatened to open a window. "Yeah, it's real cold tiday, even fa October."  
  
Sara had just a little trouble getting up, but soon managed to get up before Mrs. Brewster had a chance to. She woke up Michele, who hoped right out and acted like she couldn't be happier. Maybe I'se shoulda let 'er sleep a while longah. Do 'er some good. Sara got changed in the bathroom from her nightclothes into her factory "uniform." At least they had given all  
  
the girls something to wear, even though it wasn't the best, especially on cold days like these. After they were all ready, the girls would head down to the factory, and Sara and Michele left early in the morning. As they were walking down the street to the factory, Sara bumped into a friend.  
  
"Hey!" Sara spun around and found out that it was the boys who had bumped into her yesterday. "I'se just wanted ta tell youse dat I'se sorry 'bout yestiday. I didn't mean ta run inta ya."  
  
"Dat's awright. I almost forgot 'bout it. Used to having people just bump inta me. Didja lose any of yer papers?" Sara asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"Naw, thanks for askin' though. I'se Kid Blink, Blink fa shoirt, and dis is Mush, and dat is Racetrack. Jack's our leadah, an' he's up dere." Blink said. Odd names, Sara thought to herself, must be a newsies thing. Sara looked at Mush who looked about fifteen or sixteen, and was tall with curly brown hair and brown eyes. Racetrack, on the other hand, was short, had  
  
dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, a cigar in his mouth and a pocket watch. Gee, I dunno how old he is. Looks 'bout twelve, but he's gotta be at least fifteen, or sixteen.  
  
"Well I'se Sara, and dis 'ere is me friend, Michele. We'se on or way ta work, so, it's nice been talkin' ta youse, but if we'se late, den dey won't let us in till aftah da lunch break."  
  
"Dat's okay, 'cause we'se on our way ta da World Distribution Center, where we get our papes. See ya's 'round." Blink said, and Mush and Racetrack said bye and hurried to catch up with the others. Sara and Michele continued on their way to the factory.  
  
"Dat was da kid ya was tellin' me 'bout yestiday?" Michele asked, very shocked.  
  
"Yeah, ya like 'em?" Michele's face told all.  
  
"Gosh, he's . . . dere's no way ta describe 'im. Ya's so lucky ta have 'em bump inta you."  
  
"Ohh!" Sara got an evil grin on her face. "I know why you wanted to have him bump into you." She stuck out her tongue at Michele.  
  
"Yeah, I wouldn't keep a thing like that in my mout' either."  
  
"But you would keep somethin' else in your mout'.  
  
"What!" Michele screech, shocked at her friend. "You are so sick. Get you head outta da gutter, girl."  
  
"Don't deny it! I know what you're thinkin'."  
  
"Do not." Michele's voice rose a little.  
  
"Do too." Sara's voice getting equally as loud.  
  
"Do not."  
  
"Do too."  
  
"Do not!" Michele slowed down her pace and turned to face her friend.  
  
"Do too!" Sara stopped, and spun around to face Michele.  
  
"Do NOT!"  
  
"Ya wanna fight 'bout it?" Sara's face was stone cold.  
  
"Yeah!" Cried Michele as she made a charge at her enemy.  
  
"Wait!" Sara couldn't hold it in any longer. She burst out laughing  
  
"Dat was better. Ya gotta keep da face. Keep workin' on it, though. Ya gettin' better."  
  
"At least I tried." Sara sighed. "I'm never gonna have a good poker face. Kiss all my dreams goodbye!"  
  
By now they had both arrived at the factory. And just in time too, because they were almost late. Then they began their monotonous day at the factory, sewing collars and shirts until a short lunch break. Then after lunch they worked on sewing more shirts and collars. Other than that, it was the same thing, day in and day out. What time they got out of work, though would vary. If they had gotten all their orders filled early, then they would be let out early, and vice versa. So they could get out late evening or early evening. Sara and Michele and everybody else could finally converse, they weren't allowed to while they were working. Tonight they got early, and headed for a cheap restaurant, according to Michele.  
  
"Da food ain't half bad eiddah." So they stopped in a restaurant called Tibby's. They both ordered pork & beans, being the cheapest on the menu.  
  
By now, it was getting late, and they had to get back to the boarding house, or they wouldn't get a bunk. They got to boarding house in time, because there were three spaces left.  
  
They tiredly climbed up the stairs, and got changed. Too tired to say anything, they both fell asleep.  
  
  
  
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	3. Umm, yeah, the next part

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The next morning around five, Mrs. Brewster came in to wake up the girls again. So began their normal routine of getting up and ready for work. She and Michele were ready around their normal time, and headed towards the factory.  
  
"Sara, Michele," came a familiar voice from across the street. "Youse goils wanna join us fa breakfast?" Blink called. "It's on da way ta da factory."  
  
Sara and Michele crossed the street, so they wouldn't have to yell. "How do ya know where we'se work?" Sara demanded, getting angry and feeling betrayed.  
  
"It' ain't dat hard ta see what direction you're headed in, and dere's only one local factory 'round here." Blink said backing off. "Sides, I just though dat you'd like somethin' to eat in da moirning."  
  
"Oh, uh . . ." Sara turned to Michele, who nodded, "sure, why not. But we'se can't stay long, 'cause da factory won't let us in if we'se late."  
  
"Sure, youse'll get dere in time. Dese nuns, who feel bad fa us or somet'in', give us dis bread. Not dat it's any good, but it's food. Nobody gits enough dese days, and-"  
  
"Listen, I'se appreciate it an' all, but we don't take charity from nobody."  
  
"Look, he didn't mean ta offend ya. We don't make dat much eiddah." Racetrack defended Blink, almost apologetically.  
  
"Well, it couldn't hurt. Might as well. C'mon Michele." And so the girls tagged along with the newsies, following them to their supply of breakfast that they were willing to share. They didn't have time to talk, though, because they were already there. The nuns started handing out food, and Sara and Michele were on their way to the factory.  
  
During their lunch break, Michele was talking to Sara, and just told her that she was pretty sure that her father and mother had given up looking for her.  
  
"That's good." Sara had found a nearby pretzel stand and they had bought a pretzel each, they had some change leftover from last night. After they were done, they headed back to the factory.  
  
They got out late tonight, and headed to that restaurant that they went to yesterday. When Sara and Michele walked in, and Sara heard her and Michele's names being called. Sara turned around to see who it was, and found out that the baby-faced Italian, Racetrack, had called her, who was sitting with the ever so shy Mush.  
  
"Hey Racetrack, Mush." She didn't know the two other boys who were there, but they slid over.  
  
"Here, have a seat." Racetrack said, motioning for them to sit, where the other boys had slid over. Sara and Michele sat down, as Racetrack introduced them to the other boys. "Dis 'ere is Jack Kelly, da leadah of us Manhattan Newsies, and dis is Spot, da leadah of da Brooklyn Newsies. An' of coise you know Mush."  
  
Jack and Spot introduced themselves. Jack was tall, brown hair and eyes, wore a cowboy hat and a red bandanna. Spot was shorter (not as short as Racetrack), had blonde hair, she couldn't decide what color his eyes were, and looked like he acted tough.  
  
The waiter came over and took Sara and Michele's orders. "So, you all done sellin' your papes?" Sara asked no one in particular.  
  
"I'se done 'cause I won at da tracks, an' sold da rest of me papes." Racetrack said.  
  
"Yeah, me and Jackie-boy 'ere are done wit our papes early." Spot answered.  
  
"I was wit Race taday, and sold all a me papes wit 'im." Mush said quietly. Sara had gathered that he was a pretty shy person.  
  
"So, Spot, if youse da leadah of da Brooklyn Newsies, what are you doin' in Manhattan?" Curious Sara asked.  
  
"Spot an' I had some business we had ta do." Jack answered. Seeing that Sara wasn't going to get anymore information out of him, she turned her attention to finishing her meal, which had arrived a while ago. The rest of dinner flowed smoothly, and the boys had even asked them if they would like to see a show with them. "It wouldn't cost nuttin', 'cause I'se friends wit da  
  
owner." Jack coaxed, hoping that they would come.  
  
"What time is it anyway?" Sara said, knowing that they had to get back soon.  
  
"It's just 'bout eight fifteen." Race said. "Are you gonna come?"  
  
"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me! It's dat late already?"  
  
"What's a mattah?" Jack asked.  
  
"Well, our boardin' house has dis first come, first serve policy. Most of da girls go straight dere an' stay in for da whole night. Sometimes dere ain't 'nough room." Michele said quietly. They stood up, paid the waiter, and were getting ready to leave.  
  
"Well, if ya's evah need a place ta stay, youse welcome at our lodgin' house. Duane street. Forty-nine. Drop in sometime." Jack replied. Sara could see why he was the leader, and had already began to trust him.  
  
"Yeah, feel free ta drop in anytime." Said Blink, who had just walked in the restaurant.  
  
"Bad night?" Mush asked, concerned about is friend.  
  
"Yeah. Not too bad, though. Youse girls gonna stay 'round any longer?"  
  
"Na, thanks for askin'. We'se gotta get back. See ya 'round."  
  
"Bye! See ya's!" Blink said, and Sara and Michele walked out the door, heading for the boarding house.  
  
  
  
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Sara and Michele were almost to the boarding house. It was late, and there weren't many people out on the streets.  
  
"Do ya feel okay?" Sara was saying. "Ya didn't look to good at da restaurant."  
  
"Yeah, I'se fine. I haven't been da best lately, porb'ally just a cold er somethin'." Michele was saying.  
  
All of a sudden, these two men jumped out at them from an alley. "What do ya want? We'se nevah did nuttin' ta ya." Sara said getting, defensive, and ready to fight Michele along with her.  
  
"Which one of you is Michele Herbert?" The one attacker with a faded red shirt said. Their attackers could see right through Sara, who was still trying to conceal her emotions of fear for her friend. "So it's you den." The 2 men had found their target. For a while Sara and Michele fought them off, but that only lasted for so long.  
  
"Git rid a dat one," the other guys said, pointing to Sara. "Den we can get da other one." So they concentrated on eliminating Sara, who suddenly got pushed into a wall made of crates, which came crashing down on her. Sara made a futile attempt to cover her head with her arms as the crates toppled upon her. She was unsuccessful, and the force of the crates rendered  
  
her unconscious.  
  
  
  
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	4. Good stuff

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Sara blinked. She saw tunnels of light streaming in trough boards of wood. What da heck . . . she thought to herself. She tried to move her arms and legs, along with the rest of her body. She could. "Michele?" She called out hoarsely, and the events of her last conscious memory came back to her. No answer. Dis ain't good. Gotta get outta here an' find 'er. As Sara tried to get out, more of whatever it was that was on her slid down and caused a little avalanche and noise.  
  
"Hello?" A voice called from the alley.  
  
"Michele? Anybody? Please help me outta 'ere." Sara called out, not knowing what to do.  
  
"Where are ya?" The voice said. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it.  
  
"I dunno, over here."  
  
"Are ya awlright? Can ya move?" The voice inquired, moving closer to where she was, and starting to remove the top layers of rubbish that were on her.  
  
"Uh yeah I'm fine, 'cept a few bruises maybe." Sara said.  
  
"Well, I should have ya outta dere in no time." In the next several minutes, her rescuer had uncovered moist of the rubble, and only had two or three layers to go. "Almost dere. Hang on." And within thirty seconds, her rescuer had broken trough. Sara blinked several times, her eyes still adjusting to the light. She finally saw who helped her. "Hey, for only a few bruises, you  
  
sure gots a lotta dem. I'se Skittery. Looks like you've been through a war. Ya sure you awlright?"  
  
"Yeah, an' thank ya so much. Not many people would do dat dese days. I'se Sara."  
  
"Yeah, aren't you dat girl dat's friends wit Blink?" Skittery said.  
  
"How ya know?"  
  
" 'Cause I'se friends wit 'em."  
  
"Hey Skit! Ya won't find yer breakfast in dere!" Some one called from the alley, which was followed by some snickering.  
  
"Snoddy, shut yer mout' an' go get Jack." Skittery said to the boy whose name was apparently Snoddy, who was still in the alley.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Just go get 'em!" Snoddy hurried off to go find Jack, who wasn't far, because as soon as Snoddy turned around, he ran straight into Jack.  
  
"I'se sorry, Jack. Skit wants ya." Snoddy said, pointing in the alley. "I think he's found sumptin'." Jack went over to Skittery, suspecting it was something pretty important.  
  
"It's Sara." Skittery said, after Jack came over. It took a while for Jack to recognize Sara. Guess I dat bad. Worse den I thought.  
  
"Sara . . . who did dis? Why-" Jack was confused, and his face showed it.  
  
"Dey were aftah Michele." Sara interrupted. "We'se fought dem off fa a liddle while, but dat only lasted so long. Dey was two guys, dey both kinda looked alike, but I really couldn't tell. It was dark." Sara was trying to remember, but not much was coming back to her.  
  
"If ya saw 'em again, wouldja recognize dem?" Jack asked. He had several good ideas about who they were.  
  
"Prob'ally. I'll do me best." Jack helped her on her feet, and they started walking towards the street.  
  
Jack thought for a moment. "We'll I hate to be da bearer of bad news, but ya work at da clothes fact'ry 'round 'ere, right?"  
  
"Yeah, why?" Sara was biting her lip.  
  
"Well, dere was an accident yestiday, an' da fire got a liddle outta control." Jack paused, waiting for a response.  
  
"What do you mean?" Sara asked, Jack's answer still sinking in.  
  
"Well, it spread through da whole buildin'. It's all gone" Jack replied gently. He had been in similar situations before, and had a feeling that they were going to get a new recruit soon.  
  
"Everythin'?" Sara panicked inside, even though her answer was soft.  
  
"Yeah." Jack paused. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Sara didn't trust her own voice anymore, so she just nodded to showed that she understood. Great! What am I gonna do now? I don't have any money. Dey won't let us go back to da boardin' house? Mrs. Brewster might let us stay, but . . .She tried not to let her inner thoughts show, but apparently they did, because she got a reassuring hug from Jack.  
  
"Don't worry, ya can stay wit us. Kloppman, he's da ownah, won't mind, an' ya can stay in da goil's bunkroom. You'll be da fifth girl so far. But ya don't have ta if ya don't wan' ta." Jack offered. By now, a lot more newsies had gathered to see what Jack was doing.  
  
"Dere are girl newsies too?" Sara asked, a little puzzled.  
  
"Some are, one is a newsie, an' she also works at Tibby's. When she ain't workin', she's sellin' papes wit us. Whatevah ya want. It's up ta you."  
  
"All right, I guess it couldn't hurt to try." Sara said.  
  
"Dis here Skittery, and dis is Snoddy. Dey're da ones who dug ya out, and dey're gonna take ya to da lodgin' house. Emily won't leave for work till eight. She'll help ya get settled, awlright?"  
  
"Dat's fine." Sara said, and she was on her way to the lodging house.  
  
On the way, between the little conversation, Sara got a better look at Snoddy. He had dark brown hair with brown eyes, and looked about sixteen. They get into deep conversation, because the lodging house wasn't more than ten minutes away. When they entered in the lodging house, and old man was in the lobby, just going a bout what looked like some daily chores. Snoddy stayed down and started to explain what happened. Skittery took Sara upstairs, then knocked on a door on the right.  
  
"Da girls room is on da right, da boys is on da left." Skittery explained as he knocked again on the door. Finally a groggy "What?" Came out.  
  
"Hey, open up! We got a new girl in here now, and she's banged up pretty bad." Skittery explained.  
  
"Okay, I'm comin'!" Presently the door opened, and there stood a girl, who had obviously just rolled out of bed, and was trying to take in the whole scene.  
  
"Dis is Emily, and Emmy, dis is Sara. Take care a her, willya, dere ain't gonna be no more papes left. Sara, just stick wit 'er an' well see ya at lunch!" Skittery rushed down the stairs, hoping to get to the Distribution Center in time.  
  
"Boys, how rude. Now what was ya name?" Emily yawned. "I didn't catch it before."  
  
"Sara. I kinda got inta a fight helpin' me friend, Michele. I gotta find 'er. It's kinda a long story."  
  
"Alright, well you go on 'head and use da wash room, I gonna go back ta sleep for a little while, and if you want to you can lock da door. Use da bathtub, an' clean ya cuts. When you done, if I'm not up, can ya wake me up?"  
  
"Sure, no problem."  
  
"Sorry, I'se know dat I'se a liddle grumpy in da mornin'. Definitely not a mornin' person, I'll be bettah when I'se wake up a liddle more." She turned and went back to her bunk. "Oh, an' I almost forgot, put dese on when ya get out." Emily came over and handed her a shirt and skirt along with socks, and everything else. "We can fix up ya clothes latah."  
  
"Tanks." Sara graciously took the clothes that Emily gave her.  
  
"Anytime."  
  
  
  
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	5. The end! and you don't have to read thes...

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About an hour later, Sara looked at herself in the mirror. Not bad. Still pretty banged up, but not as dirty, maybe I'm recognizable. Sara turned around and walked out the door. Emily was already up, and beginning to get dressed and ready for work.  
  
"So, you look much bettah. How ya feelin'?"  
  
"Still pretty sore, but much bettah. Thanks again fa lettin' me borrow ya clothes."  
  
"No problem. When we get inta Tibby's, I'll see if I can get ya some woik. Don't know what, but I'll do me best."  
  
"Well, whatever it is, I'll take it. I'm outta a job anyways."  
  
So they left the lodging house, and headed for Tibby's. When they got in, Emily talked to the boss, and got Sara a little job for the day. Mainly just cleaning tables and sweeping floors, but at least she had something to do. Sara's morning was consumed with those tasks until early afternoon when the newsies began to filter in. Jack was among the first, and he pulled Sara over.  
  
"So, I found out who did dis ta you an' ya friend. Dey confessed it, I had a feelin' it was dem. Oscar an' Morris Delancy. They said that they were paid to get her, and 'couldn't avoid hurting you,' so they said."  
  
"Do ya know who they were paid by?" Sara sank down into a chair. "Michele's parents."  
  
"Did dey say where dey had to bring her?" Sara was getting anxious and started to bit her nail again.  
  
"Dey didn't say, but I'll find out. Ya's one of us now, and means dat what happens to you, or anybody else here is my business." Jack looked for anything in her face, but he couldn't tell. He continued on a higher note, "Sides, it'll give me an excuse to soak da Delancey's."  
  
"Do you know if she's still here? In New York City?" Sara wanted to at least know where her friend was.  
  
"I dunno. I can try an' find her, but I can't make any promises."  
  
She paused. "At least you tried. She was surprised to find herself fighting back tears.  
  
"Do you know why her parents were after her?"  
  
"I'm not sure, but I know dat she ran away from her mother, couple of years back. Her father left her mother with three young children. I think dat her parents are back together err somethin', and now dey's looking for her. I have no idea why, though."  
  
"Oh." Jack didn't know what to say. "Yeah, life's rough."  
  
Sara sighed. It was bound ta happen. If only I had told 'er ta go, or if only we stayed 'ere longer, or not even come at all, if only-  
  
"Don't be doin' dose "what if" t'ings," Blink comforted, who had come over in the middle of their conversation. "I can see right through ya. It'll only make things worse on yourself. Trust me."  
  
"Alright" She sniffed as a lone tear ran down her cheek.  
  
"Don't worry," Blink put his arm around her. "It'll turn out fine."  
  
"Guess I need to work on my poker face." Sara mumbled to herself, along with a little laugh.  
  
"Poker?" Racetrack's ears had perked up at the sound of his favorite game. "Where's da Game? You guys holdin' out on me?"  
  
"Calm down, Race." Blink cut in. "We're just talkin' 'bout a poker face. Alright?" Blink turned back to Jack and Sara, "Gosh, his ears. Dey picks up everythin'. If-"  
  
"I heard dat Blink." Came Racetrack's reply, as all the other newsies who were laughed.  
  
"Anyways, Sara, if ya ever need help on a poker face Race'll be glad to help."  
  
"You bet!" Racetrack was still looking at the paper waiting for his food.  
  
Emily came over to where Sara, Jack and Blink were sitting. "Sara, take a break. It'll be your lunch break, and soon I'll take mine."  
  
Sara nodded "Fine wit me."  
  
"And all of you, what can I get you to eat?" Emily took their orders and was soon back with their lunch and continued their conversation, as Emily went to wait on another table.  
  
"Tomorrow, how 'bout we take ya out an' show ya da ropes of being a newsie? Improvin' da truth an' stuff" Blink winked at Jack. "I would take ya today, but seems dat you're pretty busy."  
  
"Sure, why not?" Sara had a glimmer of hope. "I've got nothin' to lose!" 


End file.
